


Their Lives, Intertwined

by unremarkablegirl



Series: Your Future, Mine [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, No Dialogue, Past Character Death, Post-Season/Series 07, Psychoanalysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl
Summary: After a week on the ground, Raven reflects on Murphy's behaviour.
Relationships: Emori & Raven Reyes, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), John Murphy & Raven Reyes
Series: Your Future, Mine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977457
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Their Lives, Intertwined

Raven is sat in the centre of their little camp, their new home, eating her breakfast of grits and berries. She glances up, the sun is high in the sky, much higher than her usual schedule of early mornings and preparations for the rest of their lives. But, today is their day off. After week of hard work and countless near-fights, today is a day for relaxation.

She heaves a sigh. She’s never known true peace nor true relaxation. Even those five years in space were interspersed with panicked moments and concerns over the algae farm, malfunctioning systems, and the thought that she would find Murphy and Emori in a position she’d really rather not. 

Her eyes cut over to their tent at the thought, the flap now closed. Emori had emerged, only to take their breakfast back to their tent. Raven stares at it, considering. This week had been hard on all of them, but maybe more-so for those two. Y’know seeing as Emori had died, and that Murphy had intended to follow her.

Her eyes drop, considering the grits in her hand. She can feel a tremble working its way down her arm. She clenches her jaw, closes her eyes, works through a few equations until she feels the trembling stop. Her eyes open, considering now her grits. Emori’s voice had trembled, that second night, when she told her. When she said she didn’t feel right keeping it a secret. Her voice had cracked the first time she said it aloud, the first time she acknowledged her death outside of Murphy’s mind. When she acknowledged Murphy’s willingness to die with her, for her.

That had thrown her more than Emori’s death. She had seen Emori on that bed, seen how bad she had looked, but Emori had come back and that was all that mattered. But. But, Murphy’s apparent suicide ideation? That refused to settle. In a twisted way, she could understand his need to say goodbye, understand his need to see his love once more whole and bright but she refused to think about him giving up his life to do so. She always admired his tenacity—not that she’d ever tell him. Murphy was always willing to do what it takes, always pushing, always somehow conjured an ace up his sleeve. He also loves Emori with all that he is, so maybe a shared mind space had been his ace of hearts. 

She picks a berry from the remains of breakfast, chews and sucks the juice from her fingers. Today is her day off, she won’t be using it to psychoanalyze Murphy. Although, Emori’s confession had also explained Murphy's behaviour those first couple of days. At first, she had thought he was just glad to be corporeal again, but Emori’s confession and his continued behaviour throughout the week changed that. She knew Echo had noticed the change in behaviour as well, the touching and coddling and an ever vigilant watch but she doubted any of the others even knew something was off. 

Murphy was scared. He had seen the light drain from his love’s eyes, had listened to her last breaths. He had lost. And then he got a second chance, they all did. His love was alive and healthy. Maybe not happy quite yet, but none of them were; they were content, working their way towards joy. She remembers the countless little moments that those two have had around camp, with no care for who saw. She remembers the tender touches to Emori’s jaw, the kisses to her forehead. She remembers Murphy fussing over Emori’s jacket and dinner. Remembers him staying in arm’s reach of her, almost as if stuck in her orbit, always ready to reach out brush his fingers against her, a reminder that she was real. 

She can’t remember his face, can’t claim to know the look in his eyes. This was her gift to him. She refused to look at his face, refused to read the emotion there, refused to acknowledge any possible grief hiding behind his eyes. He may not care who saw, but she could not bring herself to breach his privacy, to see the love bursting out of him.

Movement catches her eye, she had been staring at their tent unknowingly. The flap has opened and out comes Emori, followed closely by Murphy. Their hands are intertwined between them. Emori’s face is drawn, her eyebrows tight together, her mouth a line, but her eyes are shining. There is compassion and understanding there. Behind her, Murphy looks like a lost puppy, his eyes wide and guileless, perhaps for the first time in his life. 

They are walking side by side now, away from camp. There is no space between them. She knows that that is the direction that Octavia and Hope had come from that first night. She wonders what safe haven is hidden away.

For a minute, she watches them walk away, somehow knowing they won’t return for hours, if not stay away well into the evening. She swallows, stands, knows that Emori with all her wit and compassion will remind Murphy of his worth.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, come prompt me on [tumblr](https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com)


End file.
